Hermione Granger and The Wings Of A Butterfly
by Our Destination Lost
Summary: CH 3 UP!SPOILERS!7th Year Trilogy form.Hermione is told something she never wanted,and was never suppose to know... A secret. One so dark, it could destroy her from the inside out.
1. Somewhere In Between

Ok, before you read on, let me explain the Trilogy thing for those who might not know what I mean. What I mean is, this story in its entirety is based on Hermione.It will be a quite a few chapters long. There will be a sequal to this, based on Ron. Then a third story, based on Harry Potter,that will make it a Trilogy. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy my little take on the wizarding world..

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. I just own the plotlines. So don't sue me. I'm broke as it is... I also don't own the quotes at the beginning of each chapter, so again, don't sue me. No money being made.**

**(NOTE: This is the ONLY chapter in this story told by Hermione in first person.)**

**7Th Year-Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry**

Chapter One- Somewhere In Between

"This is over my head  
but underneath my feet  
cause by tomorrow morning  
I'll have this thing beat  
and everything will be back to the way that it was  
I wish that it was just that easy..."-Somewhere In Between,Lifehouse.

A fact…

A single piece of information drifting along, faceless among the thousands of other thoughts and emotions in the human brain. It seems impossible that one single fact could alter the course of your entire life and the lives of those around you, of those you care about.

...But Merlin, a fact is where it all started.

I'd been having nightmares for the entire summer after the tragedy that occurred last year at the end of term...I think anyone with a soul would have. That someone could just...just walk right into someone's life, gain their trust, and then just...betray them in every way.

Our Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was murdered. All because Professor Snape decided to sit down and think about the direction in which his life was going. Nobody, at least no one willing to come forward, knows why he chose to prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord after so many years of turning his back on the Death Eaters. He'd been loyal to The Order, not to mention the school, for many, many years.

Two words.

One Unforgivable Curse.

Then it was all over...and no one saw it coming.

A sworn 'reformed Death Eater'. I suppose that such a thing doesn't exist in this world anymore. Something so evil, so corrupt, could not possibly be turned into something honest and void of original sin. But that's how life works most of the time. For every action, there are consequences. For Dumbledore's trust, he received dishonor, and ultimately, his death.

I noticed the change in the atmosphere weeks before the attack, as Dumbledore began to seclude himself in his quarters, stealing Harry away from classes at least twice a week. No one listened to me then, just as they didn't apologize for turning a deaf ear after it was all said and done.

Which means that no one will listen to me now.

Besides, Dumbledore had to of noticed something was wrong too, but he was never the type to point a finger without a reason. That was probably what he'd been up to before he was killed, and I can only imagine what he must have found to make Snape think he was a risk.

The only thing anyone has to go on are the rumors floating around, and the small amount of actual facts we've been given, both by teachers and the Daily Prophet.

All anyone could gather was that Dumbledore had been asleep in his bed when Snape had snuck in. He hadn't even woken the sleeping Headmaster before killing him. Probably didn't have the courage to let Dumbledore see his betrayor.

Not soon after the attack, the rumors began to fly.

How Snape had been in cahoots with the Dark Lord for years. He'd been following orders to infiltrate Hogwarts and work from the inside out. He'd gotten threatened by Lucious Malfoy to join their side again or die. That seemed to be the most fallible, as Lucious had been thrown into Askaban only hours after the Headmaster was killed and Snape had disappeared. Lucious refuses to speak a word, and so there he remains until the day when they hope he will break.

A Malfoy...Break...Ha!

Everyone in the Malfoy family was investigated, but they are masters of disguise. Nothing incriminating could be found on anyone except for Luicous himself. And so, the investigation on the Malfoys was dropped, and the police moved on to other leads.

Harry, Ron, and I think Draco Malfoy is part of it. Harry swears he saw a Dark Mark on his arm, but no one believed him really. Save Ron and myself.

Now we're halfway into the year, and...well...School is a living nightmare. Not only did Hannah Abbott of Ravenclaw make Head Girl instead of me, but just who do you suppose made Head Boy?

If you said Draco Malfoy, you're right...It's appalling! How COULD they let him take that responsibility? Nevermind him being able to do a lot more damage with all that information! But now he's Head Boy, I'm glad I'm far away from that shared Common Room that Hannah has to share with him. Ugh.

And the worst part of all? He's started to do horrible things to Ron, Harry, and I. Especially me. I mean, I know he hates muggle borns, but sending me to hospital because of it? TWICE?

It's just not normal. Not normal at all. The year isn't even half over yet!

Maybe I should just forget about it. He's always been obnoxious, and he's probably still sore about my punching him in the face four years ago...What a foul little ferret.

I'm off to the Great Hall for dinner and to watch Harry and Ron finish their game of Wizard's Chess...Tomorrow it's Double Potions with Slytherins.

Merlin, help me...

Hermione Jane Granger

**Well, there you are…Sorry this introduction chapter is so short, but the thicker the plot gets, the thicker the chapters get…Please let me know if you like it!**


	2. The Child Is Gone

**Disclaimer- Yadda yadda, you know the rest! Enjoy!**

Chapter Two- The Child Is Gone

"I suddenly feel like a different person

From the roots of my soul come a gentle coercion

And I ran my hand o'er a strange inversion

A vacancy that just did not belong

The child is gone…"-The Child Is Gone, Fiona Apple

Hermione sat uncomfortably on her seat, perched on the very edge of it, straining to see into her cauldron. She would have been standing, but her back was sore and aching, and her head hurt terribly from lack of sleep. Double Potions with Slytherins always meant a stressful lesson, and this one was shaping up to be no different in light of the recent events.

Last night, in the Great Hall, Hannah Abbott, Head Girl, had approached Hermione as she watched Harry and Ron play an interesting round of Wizard's Chess. Hannah Abbott had pulled Hermione aside under the guise of school work, then shattered Hermione's fragile world into a million jagged pieces that she just didn't know how to put back together again.

Apparently, Malfoy had been having nightmares of his own for about a month now, dating back to when his assaults on the trio had started. According to Hannah, he had been mumbling heavily in his sleep, and she'd overheard him saying something about Gryffindor . Not to mention, Hannah had also overheard him talking to himself in their shared Common Room about that 'stupid mudblood Granger' and how she gets to him in ways that made Hermione's skin crawl. She was worried, very wired from losing a nights sleep, and it was plain to see to anyone who cared to notice. In fact, Hermione herself hadn't even noticed that she'd measured the last three ingredients for her potion wrong.

Professor McGonagal sat at the head of the room, and her eyes met Herimione's as she shook her head. At least someone noticed. McGonagal had taken over the Potions class after Snape had gone M.I.A.. It wasn't an easy job, since she was also the Transfiguration teacher, head of Gryffindor House, and as of late, had replaced Dumbledore as temporary Headmistress. It was a lot to handle, and Hermione was starting to feel sympathy for the woman. How she kept her wits about her was beyond Hermione.

In fact, Hermione had never been more thankful that Ron was late to class due to a delayed Quidditch practice, and that Harry was missing class yet again, spending most of his time in the library, trying to decipher the clues Dumbledore had left behind for him. Neither one needed to see her like this. Although she couldn't tell them about the information she was recently given, she doubted their position on the matter would be any different than her own, save being a more violent one, aiming towards his death. That was exactly why the didn't know. They would never know, if she had anything to say about it.

Swallowing hard, Hermione choked down the new, unfamiliar feeling. It was something she could identify, but something she'd never truly let herself experience. It was fear. Sick, twisted, slimy fear that slid down her throat and stuck to her insides like crazy glue, strangling her heart and lungs until she almost couldn't breathe.

Harry and Ron would want to protect her, like they owned her in the first place. No, this, she decided, was something she had to deal with on her own. So here she was, letting herself fail this lesson, and too busy thinking of personal problems and ways out of them to even bother to notice. Alright, so she may have noticed after she put the third ingredient that something wasn't right.

The potion in the cauldron was suppose to turn a light yellow color and smell of pure cocoa. It was a very weak version of a love drough that, if brewed properly, could temporarily make the drinker unbelievably happy. The real potion, known as The Heart Of Gold, unlike its weaker counterpart, turned to bright, metallic gold instead of yellow, is said to make even the most evil and vile people worthy of the title Saint. Hermione had considered using it on Malfoy more than once, but it had been outlawed in the late 1800's for its dangerous side effects. That, and it only lasted for a week. Long enough to use it against someone and do some serious damage, but not long enough to actually change the course of someone's heart for good. In fact, the reason it had been outlawed was due to the fact that usually, the person was unaware they where under a spell for the week that it lasted, and when the potion wore off, it left only insanity. When a young woman had been sent to St. Mungo's after being tricked into taking the potion, once a bright and outspoken student, she spoke not a work, had horrible waking nightmares, and even tried to kill someone.

This potion, however, called Happiness In A Bottle, was perfectly safe, only lasting for twenty four hours, and simply made all your problems go away. After the horrors the year before, and the somber summer that followed, Professor McGonagal had decided to brew the Happiness In A Bottle and let each student take a vile of their own. Since there where no side effects, no one could be tricked into doing anything, or saying anything, they would just be happy for a day and be done with it.

"Has anyone seen Mr. Malfoy today?" Professor McGonagal asked, cutting through Hermione's thoughts like a knife. She heard a few students snicker, but no one spoke up.

"I said, has anyone seen Mr. Malfoy to-"

Her sentence was cut short by the doors to the dungeon swinging open. Speak of the Devil, and he shall arise. In walked Draco Malfoy, ashen blonde hair hanging down over those cold, grey eyes. His skin looked dirty, and it made Hermione wonder just what he'd been up to before he walked into class.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy…So good of you to join us."

"Sorry I'm late, Professor. I've got a note." He said innocently, outstretching his hand, which was grasping a piece of parchment. McGonagal approached him, taking the note and unfolding it. Reading, she nodded and told him to take his seat.

"As the lesson is almost over, I expect you to stay after class and prove to me that you need not be present to learn. Ten points from Slytherin."

"That's not fair!"

"Another five! And the next time you intent to forge a note, Mr. Malfoy, you'll think twice about sending it to _me_. Now sit down!"

As he slunk into his seat, he glared at the back of McGonagal's head for foiling his plan to get away with it. He'd have to remember to teach that prat in Ravenclaw a lesson. Draco let his eyes scan the room, lingering momentarily on Granger and the empty seat beside her. Where was her boyfriend, Weasel? He must have been staring longer than he thought, because he failed to notice Pansy Parkinson slide into the seat beside him. He cringed slightly as she put her arm around his shoulders.

"Draco! There you are! Where have you been? Are you alright? Why are you so dirty? Helloooo? Why are you staring at Granger like that? Are you even-"

Merlin, she asked a lot of questions, didn't she? He supposed that's what he got for having his own life.

"Butt out, Pansy…Stop being such a nosey git."

"But-"

"I was attending to personal matters that have nothing to do with you."

"But, Draco-"

"I said drop it."

"That still doesn't explain why you were looking at –"

"Shut. Up."

"Fine! Whatever…" She said, pulling her arm back quickly as if he'd actually physically struck her. Good. It served her right, shoving her nose where it didn't belong all the time.

Watching her take her seat at another table, he folded his arms and bored his eyes once again into the back of Granger's head. He hated her. He hated all of them. They where unworthy to attend the same classes, no less the same school as him. Unworthy to be in his presence.

Hermione could feel his deep stare. It was piercing her resolve, making her nervous. Rolling her eyes, she tried to ignore the little beads of sweat on her brow, the goosebumps on her flesh, the rolling nausea in her stomach. What a vile prat he was. A sick, demented little boy, pretending to the point of desperation to be a man. Swallowing hard, Hermione tried not to be sick. Her mind was being stripped away, layer by layer, every precious thought in her head exposed by the expression on her face.

The door to the dungeon swung open once more, and an out of breath Ronald Weasley trudged through them, mud still clinging to his hair, face, and shoes from Quidditch practice. He walked up to the desk at the front of the room, handing Professor McGonagal his note. She smiled, not having to read it, and told him to take his seat. She'd been informed previous to the class that he would be late. Ron smiled as he sat next to Hermione, but one look into her cauldron and the smile faded.

"What's all this, then? Trying to kill us all, are you?" He said, eyeing the cauldron with caution.

"Shove it, Ron." Had she said that?

"Oy…Someone's knickers are in a twist. What's the matter with you?"

"Ron, I'm warning you. I'm not in the mood."

"Right then, just don't poison me… What'd I miss?"

"If you think I'm going to lend you my notes again-"

"If your notes are what got you that mess, I think I'll pass, thanks."

"For one minute, if you could just leave out the jokes-"

"Hermione-"

"-always a joke with you, isn't it-"

"Uh, Hermione-"

"-can't make one mistake, can I? Merlin forbid I even-"

"Hermione!"

"What?"

"Your cauldron's going to explode!"

"What on Earth are you-"

Smoke began to pour out of her cauldron, thick and black, as her sentence was interrupted by a loud hissing and popping sound. The black tar in her cauldron began to bubble fiercely as the two stood, backing away from the cauldron, coughing. McGonagal rushed over to them, aiming her wand and murmuring a quick cleaning spell as the whole scene vanished before their eyes. Pursing her lips, she turned her attention to Ron and Hermione.

"I'm disappointed in you, Miss Granger. I never expect perfection from my students, but I certainly expected more than this from you. Now, get yourself another cauldron from the back closet, and this time, make sure to double check those measurements. Even though there is only a half hour left in class, I trust you can brew your potion before the lesson ends."

"Yes, Professor." She said, hanging her head in shame. Disappointed. That was perhaps the worst word in the world for Hermione. She could hear her classmates snickering and whispering, wondering what was wrong, why she'd suddenly lost her touch.

Sighing slowly, her hands shaking, she began to make her way towards the back of the room. She didn't want to do it, mostly because Malfoy was one of the people she had to walk past in order to get to the storage closet. Every time she got within three feet of Malfoy as of late, she'd been either pinched, insulted, laughed at, or worse- nothing. The nothing was what scared her. She was use to the torment, the bullying. What she wasn't use to was the silence. It was uncharted territory and it made her very, very uneasy.

Hermione shook her head, as if trying to make the queasy feeling in her stomach somehow fly out her ears. Heading towards the back of the room, she stuck up her nose as she walked past him, showing him that she wasn't afraid. That was probably her first mistake. The second was trusting him to do nothing. Never trust a pureblood, that's what her mother had said the first time Hermione had complained of his actions. Since Hermione's acceptance into Hogwarts, her muggle parents had learned a lot about the wizarding world and accepted all aspects of it. They hated Malfoy almost as much as Hermione herself, and for that, she was very grateful. At least they would listen to her, should she chose to tell them.

Sticking up her nose as she headed past his table, she made her first mistake. And of course, he had to do it. Just had to. Malfoy, being who he was, couldn't just let an opportunity like that pass him by. Sticking his foot out just as she was walking by him, he felt the satisfying thump as her foot tripped over his. Chuckling lightly as her arms flailed hopelessly in the air, he tucked his foot back under his desk as she began to fall, before anyone was the wiser.

"Ooof!" Hermione yelled, grasping out in front of her but touching only air. She was falling, fast.

The foot had taken Hermione by surprise, even though somewhere in her mind she'd been expecting it. The stone floor of the classroom was coming up fast, and she cringed as she twisted, trying to land on her back and seriously misjudging the distance. The side of her head hit first with a loud WHACK, followed by her shoulder, then the rest of her. The entire class stopped in their tracks and turned to stare at the scene before them as McGonagal and Ron lept up almost simultaneously, rushing to her side.

Hermione sat up, dazed, her head spinning and throbbing at the same time. No one made a sound as she put her hand to the side of her head, feeling the warm liquid sliding down her right temple. Merlin, she was in pain. Her hand held the side of her head gently, then came away for her to examine it. Blood. She was bleeding! Tears spilled over her lashes, running trails down her cheeks. She didn't want to cry. Her pain turned to hot, white anger, her blood boiling inside of her veins.

"Hermione! Merlin… You're bleeding!" Ron exclaimed, turning his attention to Malfoy, who sat there stone faced. "What the bloody hell did you do that for!"

"Mr. Weasley! I'll thank you not to use that sort of language in my classroom! Miss Granger, we need to get you to hospital straight away." Said McGonagal, putting her arm underneath Hermione's and helping her to stand, slowly. Leaning all of her weight on McGonagal, she glared at Malfoy.

"You…You did this! You PRAT!" She yelled, gathering a few gasps from her classmates. Was that her voice?

"What on Earth are you talking about, Granger? I did nothing. I swear, you're as daft as Weasel sometimes…"

"You…" Hermione repeated, her façade crashing to the floor in front of her and she was powerless to stop it. "You ugly little ferret!"

"Enough! The both of you! Mr. Weasley, take Miss Granger to Hospital at once." Said McGonagal, carefully transferring Hermione's weight onto Ron's shoulders. "And you, Mr. Malfoy…Come with me."

Malfoy glared at the two as he stood, then half turned as he headed out the door with McGonagal and smirked.

"C'mon, Hermione…Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey. She'll know what to do." Ron said, helping her limp out of the room. What had just happened?

The familiar sea she'd once been sailing, it's surface once as smooth as glass, was now a churning, stormy, black Hell that she was slowly being sucked into with no hope of ever returning. She hated to admit it, but deep down inside, Hermione was scared to death.

A bell rang halfway between Potions and Hospital as people began to shuffle into the hall, hurrying to get to their next lesson. Hermione could hear the whispers rising, the questioning glances, the snickers from the Slytherins as they walked by. She hated them. She hated every last bloody one of them. Her head was starting to spin again, her vision slightly blurry and swaying back and forth. Her legs felt like jelly as they gave out from underneath her, Ron gasping and trying to keep her upright as he stopped, his strength deceiving him as he slowly lowered her to the floor. He'd never get her there on his own.

"Hermione! Can you hear me? Hermione! Someone! Help!" He shouted, looking to his other classmates. It was almost a godsend that he saw that mass of messy black hair making its way down the hall. Motioning to Harry as he passed by with one hand, Ron tried to keep Hermione from hitting the floor with the other.

"Harry! Thank Merlin…It's Hermione…"

Harry's eyes widened as he saw her, and he kneeled down to get a closer look, gasping as he saw the dried blood on her face, the fresh blood in her hair. Her skin was so pale, and already turning black and blue around her temple and her eye.

"Hermione, are you ok? Who did this?"

"Harry?..." She said, her eyes closing slowly as her vision began to dance. The last thing she remembered was hearing Neville Longbottom agree to help the two boys carry her to Hospital. Then, the sky fell in and her world turned black.

**Well, there we go- a bit longer and a bit more involved. Chapter three will be better, I promise! **


	3. Just Like You

**Disclaimer.**

**Chapter Three-Just Like You**

"I could be mean

I could be angry

You know I could be just like you

I could be cold

I could be ruthless

You know I could be just like you"-Three Days Grace

Hermione winced in her sleep as the pale faced boy leaned in closely, threatening to kiss her, her mind screaming out in anger, pain, frustration and…and something much too dangerous to consider. Her eyes flew open, her breath coming quick and short, beads of sweat covering her entire body, soaking through her clothes and making her shiver. Just a dream. It was all just a horrible dream.

It took her brain a moment to recognize her surroundings as she sat up very carefully, every move she made acting as a knife to the right side of her head. Furrowing her brow, she raised her hand to her temple and felt the thick gauze bandages covering her head. What had happened to her? Had she fallen down the stairs? Why couldn't she remember? How long had she been in Hospital? For that matter…What day was it?

She ran her fingers over the gauze lightly, tears forming in her eyes. The bandages went from the side of her head all the way down to her chin. What happened? The last thing she remembered was staring into her cauldron, Ron telling her it was about to explode, the black tar smoking, the hissing noise…That must be it! She'd blown herself up! Nice going, Hermione, way to pass the lesson, she scolded herself, looking around and noticing how empty hospital was. That meant that it was either mealtime or the weekend. Usually, most accidents happened during the school day. She was living proof! Oh, how embarrassing, she thought. She'd never be able to live this one down, not in a thousand years.

"Hermione!"

The shout caught her off guard and she jumped, a stabbing pain going through her head and making her groan out loud, her hand instinctively reaching for the bandages. Glancing at the door, she saw Ron and Harry rushing towards her, smiles on their faces.

"Thank Merlin you're awake… You've been out for two days! We thought… Well, that is…Madame Pomfrey said you might not…Glad to see you're ok…" Said Ron, frowning as Harry looked at him with an odd expression on his face.

"Welcome back, Hermione…How do you feel?" Asked Harry as he and Ron sat down on the end of her bed.

"I feel like I've been hit by a train…" She said, leaning back against the wall.

"If it makes you feel any better, Malfoy's been suspended from classes for a week." Said Harry, obviously happy about it.

"Well it certainly doesn't hurt, but what's that got to do with me?"

Harry and Ron looked at eachother for a moment before returning their gazes to her.

"You mean…You don't remember what happened?" Asked Harry, a worried look on his face.

"What do you mean, 'what happened'? My cauldron exploded…Didn't it?"

"No, Hermione…Malfoy tripped you and you hit your head on the floor… Apparently, harder than we thought-"

"Ron!" Harry huffed, obviously not happy with his choice of words.

"Malfoy did this to me?" Hermione asked, but even as she did so her memory started filtering back to her. The hissing cauldron, Ron's warning, McGonagal telling her to get another one. The anger soaked into her skin once more.

"I can't believe people like him are allowed to go to this school." Harry said, frowning.

"Now you sound like him, Harry…"

"Yes…But…At least he got in trouble for it, mate. And if it makes you feel any better, he'd kill any one of us…" Ron said, trying to help.

"That did loads, thank you so much." Harry chided.

"Right." Ron said, frowning.

"We could kill him for this…" Harry chimed in, more of an afterthought that anything.

"Kill him and I'm done for. The last thing I need is you two put into Azkaban for murder… Not to mention you'd be shacking up with his father, Lucious…" She said, trying to make light of the subject.

"Oy! You're right…I'd rather do with one than the other." Ron said, shivering at the idea.

Hermione laughed a little, her head throbbing at the sudden movement which stopped her laughter short.

"Hermione, something about this just doesn't feel right…Why would Malfoy pick on you so much? He's always taken it out on Harry and I, and it's not like we're not grateful-OUCH!" He exclaimed as Harry elbowed him in the ribs.

"Sorry… But what's going on? Why is he all of the sudden so interested in you?"

"Nothing's going on, Ron…You know he hates muggleborns. He's probably just trying to prevent graduating with one."

"We could get him for this…." Harry said, but stopped when Hermione shot him a look that said 'keep going and it's off with your head'. He chose not to chance it.

"There is _something_ we could do, y'know…"

"No, Ron…"

"But he deserves it-"

"Not you, too Harry…"

"But-"

"Look, will the both of you just leave it…?" Hermione said, and the both of them frowned.

"You never let us do anything fun." Ron joked, a half smirk on his face.

"If your idea of fun wasn't against the rules most of the time…" Hermione chimed in, folding her arms across her chest.

"Seriously, though… You're sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine…"

"She's lying." Ron said, choosing now to call her a liar. It was the wrong choice.

"Ronald-"

That tone. He _hated_ that tone.

"C'mon then, out with it." He continued, digging a deeper hole for himself.

_If only he had those little red flags in his brain to go with that red hair on top of it_…Hermione thought, which settled some of the anger.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything. The truth." Harry stated, matter-of-factly.

"Alright, alright…the truth is…I'm a little intimidated by him. Not much just…A creepy feeling, like a bad omen, y'know? I feel terrible for letting him get to me but…I can't help it. It's like my skin tries to run away every time he's in the room…"

"Who'd blame you? You've been to hospital three times now. What if I… what if I give him the good old Bat Bogey Hex? Seemed to work for Ginny-"

"You know that won't stop him, Harry…Just make him even more of a prat. Besides, if I let him know he's getting to me, he'll never back off."

"Yes, but he's hurting you, Hermione…Badly. If you need to talk-"

"About what? There's nothing to talk about."

"Are you sure you're aright?" Ron asked, taking over the conversation. The result wasn't much better, Hermione rolling her eyes before letting out an annoyed huff.

"Yes, Ronald. Yes, Harry. I'm f-i-i-i-n-e…" She said, making sure to draw out the last word with purpose, putting an end to the conversation.

"Well, you will be. We'll make sure of that, right Harry?"

Harry eyed Ron for a moment, then looked back to Hermione and nodded.

Harry knew something was up. Something big. But he also knew that if Hermione didn't want to talk about it, then that was the end of things. She was quite stubborn when it came down to it, and it was frustrating. Especially because he only wanted to help, and didn't understand her need to torture herself by keeping it all inside. But under the circumstances, he decided to drop it and pick the conversation up again when he and Hermione were alone.

"Will you be allowed to go to the Quidditch match tomorrow? It's Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Should be pretty interesting." Said Ron, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon them like a thick blanket.

Quidditch…

It seemed like such an infantile subject that it almost made Hermione laugh. It was horrible that something so simple could now become something totally uncontrollable and ultimately, something terrifying. If she went to Quidditch, he would be there. He would be there, and so would she. Unless…Unless part of his punishment was to not be allowed to play tomorrow.

He'd probably rogue a bludger right to her head if he was.

No thank you.

Before she had the chance to answer, they heard the doors swinging open as a bright and oddly cheery Madame Pomfrey sauntered in, a thermometer in one hand and a pair of small surgical scissors in the other.

She smiled as she came towards Hermione, sticking the thermometer in her mouth before she had the chance to say 'Good Morning'.

"Well, I'm certainly glad to see you're awake! We thought for a moment we may have to do some serious work on you, Miss Granger. But now you're awake, you should be good as new…Let's take a look at your temperature…" She said, taking the thermometer back and glancing at it.

Her smile widened, and Hermione sighed with relief.

"Ah, yes. Perfect! Now, let's take a look at those battle scars, shall we?"

Madame Pomfrey took the small scissors and started to cut away the gauze, careful not to cut any of Hermione's hair in the process, slowly unwrapping them so as not to hurt her if any wounds hadn't healed yet. Once the blood stained gauze was removed, they were left staring at mostly smooth, pink skin.

"Well, they're not fully healed yet, but the rest can be done with time. You may stay another night if you wish, but in my opinion, you're free to go."

Smiling at the young Gryffindor, Madame Pomfrey stood, gathering all of her supplies. Turning towards the door, she added a second thought.

"Thank your lucky stars these boys were there. Any later, and…Well…You're very lucky to have such friends, Miss Granger."

And with that, she exited the Hospital, heading for her office. Hermione looked at the two, her fingers lightly touching the spot where she'd hit the floor.

"Right, well…We'll leave you to it then. See you at dinner?" Harry asked, heading for the door with Ron right behind him.

"I'll be down in a few minutes…Ron, Harry?"

"Yeah?" They said in unison.

"Er-…Thanks…"

"Any time."

"Yeah, anytime."

Sighing as they left, Hermione got out of bed and went to change back into her school robes. They'd been washed and dried since she'd worn them last. Her stomach was grumbling. Perhaps after supper she'd go back to the Common Room to sit by the fire. Maybe to her dorm, who knew? She just wanted to get away from everyone for a while. Pretend her life wasn't ending right before her eyes.

Or maybe just disappear.

Still, she had to go to dinner. It was the least she could do after what Harry and Ron had done for her. And yet, somewhere deep inside, a part of her was regretting the fact that she'd agreed to join them.

On her way to the Great Hall for dinner, she gripped onto the railings of the staircases tightly, biting her bottom lip and thinking hard, ignoring most of the other students that she passed along the way.

What would become of her this year?

The teachers were a good defense if she was in class, but what about the downtime? How would she possibly avoid the attacks she never saw coming?

Once, he'd gotten her on her way to the Prefect's Bathroom. She'd been rounding the corner when Malfoy's arm connected with her chin, sending her in a backwards spiral towards the floor. That was her first trip to hospital that year. No one had been around to see it, so he was let go with a warning. She didn't think the teachers even believed her until McGonagal had taken action in Potions.

_Two days_.

She'd been out for two days because of that foul, loathsome, evil little…_Calm down, Hermione. It's not worth it. He's just upset with you for punching him four years ago._ A grudge, that was all. Hannah had been wrong, and that was the end of it. She'd probably gotten her facts mixed up, misunderstood him when she'd heard him talking to himself. For all she knew, he could have been talking about Pansy Parkinson. After all, the two were meant for eachother. That had to be it. There was no way the cause for his assaults was anything more than blind hatred. Just the thought of the whole idea…

Hermione's footsteps echoed in the halls amongst all the voices of the excited first years still milling about, reluctant to join the hundreds of others in the Great Hall, the second years who thought they were experts now they'd been here more than once, and the third years who were laughing at them for thinking they knew it all.

It was routine, really, and ever since first year she'd learned to accept that that was the way of the world here at Hogwarts. Most of the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh years had already gone to study, or back to their respective common rooms, bored with the excited students who didn't know any better.

Not Hermione...She found it nice that, given the turn of the times, students still loved being there, even while they knew they were in danger. Maybe that's why they liked it so much. They knew the risks, and felt special, a sort of morbid pride, that they were the chosen ones.

_The few, the proud, the magical..._

That thought made her chuckle aloud, and she got a few curious stares from two fourth years who had taken to trading gossip by the grand staircase. Gossip. One thing she'd never really emerged herself in, preferring to keep a guise of ignorance even though, being a prefect, she knew most of what everyone was saying. Both a blessing and a curse, as some of it was about her, and not all of it was pleasant. It didn't bother her much, as she knew who she was and what she was and was not doing.

Being raised as a Muggle had its advantages. She wasn't the all, high and mighty, look at me I can do magic tricks kind of girl.

Nodding to Hannah Abbott as she passed her, she was reminded of the time in third year when Hannah had confided to Hermione that she planned to make Ravenclaw Head Girl in their seventh year. Hermione had wished her the best, but secretly, she hoped the chore would go to herself. It wasn't like Hannah was irresponsible, simply more forgetful than anything. Still, she knew that Hannah would do the school proud, granted the school was still up and running by then, the threat of an attack always prominent.

Shaking the thought from her head as she stepped across the threshold and into the Great Hall, greeted by loud voices and laughter, she reminded herself that she was happy not to have that chore.

Then she'd have to actually share a _Common Room_ with Malfoy.

Share a _bathroom_ with Malfoy...

_Live with Malfoy…_

She was still a prefect, still an avid member of S.P.E.W, Dumbledore's Army, enrolling in the new Tutoring program open to only Seventh Years who got O's on certain OWL's, and she was still one of the top scoring students in her graduating class…

Even though she hadn't made Head Girl, all of those other accomplishments still meant something important, something to take pride in, right?

_Right….?_

**Well, there you have it, the third chapter is finally off the editing block. I hope you enjoyed it! **

**Love me, hate me, I'll learn from it… Put them all in the reviews.)**

**Check for chapter four soon!**


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